


Dementia

by Gentrychild



Category: Vikings (TV)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Modern Setting, Fate loves messing with Heahmund, Ivar and Heahmund are killers, M/M, Possible reincarnation AU, Psych Ward, Though a really corrupted one, Two chapters and one short epilogue, Was turned into an actual though subtle reincarnation AU, private military, sniper Heahmund
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-02-02
Updated: 2018-03-01
Packaged: 2019-03-12 16:59:01
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 3
Words: 12,002
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/13551678
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Gentrychild/pseuds/Gentrychild
Summary: Ivar/Heahmund, modern setting. Obviously, they meet in a psych ward.





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

  * For [LadyIrina](https://archiveofourown.org/users/LadyIrina/gifts).



> It started with a bet. LadyIrina and I bet a fic about Heahmund being actually a double agent on Ivar's side and... I graciously decided to write this fic without too much wailing and complaining.  
> I blame you, LadyIrina, but you already know that.  
> Thank you so much for your support.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Please, check the awesome aesthetic Forbreadman made of Dementia: https://forbreadman.tumblr.com/post/171448119474/ivarheahmund-dementia-by-gentrychild-just-go !!!

 

 

_My Lord, deliver me. My Lord, may you protect me. My Lord, give me the strength to accomplish what I must do._

They had taken his cross as soon as he had been admitted. It was solid enough to be used as a weapon, they said. Or worse, Heahmund could have used it to hurt himself. They had seen his file, they knew he had been admitted for PTSD, and they actually believed he needed a weapon to hurt someone. And they wondered why doctors weren't trusted anymore.

The common room was a mess disguised as a peaceful place. Conversations were quiet, no one was thinking about making problems, but Heahmund could feel the lies saturating the place. There were two kind of patients : the apathetic ones, too tired and under too much meds to remember to hope to be freed, and the more dangerous one. Those who were biding their times and waited to be out of sight to reveal themselves, those who were just playing the game, pretending to want to be cured so they could be released and forget they were ever here.

None of this mattered. They could take his cross. God would always be with him and He would always hear his voice. They could lock him in a psych ward and lose the key. He was still free. It was just not official yet.

Nurse Rose approached him and he let some fondness reach his eyes, a slight encouragement. The nurse had a book under her arm, and a sweet smile on her face.

"Hello Heahmund. I have something for you."

The staff was not supposed to be so friendly with the residents, but Heahmund could be so charming when he needed to. It had started with a good mood when she was around, smiles without expecting anything in return. People noticed when you showed you appreciate them. Asking her how was her day, exchanging pleasantries. Talking a little more, about more personal things, they both like to read, what a coincidence. Soon, she had done little things for him. Looking out for him, taking time to talk with him about the books they read. Bringing some.

"You're too kind for your own good," he said with a smile and truthfully. After all, he needed a way out. He took the book and read the fourth cover hungrily. He was not lying completely : he appreciated Harper Rose, had the same tastes in books, and he was mercilessly bored. That was the secret to be believed : use the truth as a shield.

"Maybe I just need someone to share the sweet torture of a good writer."

Heahmund considered it, and shrugged, making a point of clutching the book to his chest anyway and making her laugh. She left him in a cheerier mood than a moment ago. She knew they could not be friends but could not help to consider him as one.

He did not like doing that to her. But beggars could not be choosers, and since he had been brought here because of his former employer, he would not get out without him, so he had to find alternatives solutions. Heahmund knew too many secrets to be killed and was too much of a threat to be left in the field, so they had put him away, left him in a box for broken toys.

And one of them was rolling toward him. A male nurse was pushing the bane of his existence toward him, literally. Ivar Ragnarson looked like an angel, one that has fallen and was delighted by it. Young, light brown hair cropped on the sides and braided on the top of his skull, eyes too blue that seemed otherworldly, he seemed constantly haunted by a furious energy. Violence. He reminded him of a lone wolf, a beast that had learned to survive alone and who could never be tamed. Heahmund couldn't comprehend how nobody was seeing it, but that did not mean they did not feel it. Staff or patients, people were uncomfortable around him without knowing why.

A wolf among sheep.

The nurse pushed Ivar towards Heahmund's table, not noticing how the hands of the young man were gripping the armrests, his knuckles almost white as he dealt with being denied his mobility. He was in a wheelchair, but not because of broken bones since he was regularly crawling around when the staff wasn't looking.

"Bishop, Heahmund," Ivar called with a grin while putting a chess game on the table. "As always, what a perfect patient you make."

"Didn't they find more knives in your room ? Again ?"

"Always having a knife is common sense," Ivar shrugged.

 _You are never going out,_ Heahmund wanted to say. _You know that, aren't you ?_

"I am not playing today," he said instead.

Ivar leaned back in his chair, not amused anymore : « And why is that ? »

"Because it's starting to become the usual thing. The usual thing is easy, something you do without thinking. It makes you blunt. And neither of us wants such a thing."

All trace of viciousness disappeared from Ivar, replaced by curiosity. This man was always living at one hundred per cent, unable to not feel everything until it was almost painful. In another place, in another time, Heahmund would have been fascinated.

"So, you want something new to do ?" Ivar asked with an almost frightening intensity.

Heahmund did not answer. He kept looking into those too blue eyes, making sure to not show any trace of weaknesses. Interacting with Ivar meant dealing constantly with a predator. He would not rip out your throat if you showed fear, but no 'lack of respect' would be tolerated afterwards.

"I want out," Ivar whispered like a confident. "I coud use some help."

"Tell me more."

  


*

  


"No."

"What do you mean, no ?" Ivar snarled. He was probably thinking he could pass for calm, but only managed tranquil fury.

Heahmund was walking as fast as he could without running and alerting the staff, and turned at the last second, but Ivar managed to perfectly follow him. Well, some foot were crushed, but it was not one of the little maniac's priorities.

"No," Heahmund repeated slowly. He wondered if taking a sprint would allow him to have some peace but he didn't want to have Ivar at his back either. "You are violent, ruled by your emotions, and unpredictable."

"So you would rather stay here and wither away."

 _No._ _I won't be able to bear it much longer._ But Heahmund did not respond.

Ivar took a deep breath, and when he talked again, there was a hesitation : "I am not insane, Heahmund. I don't..."

"I beg to differ." Heahmund couldn't help himself, and the glare of absolute annoyance Ivar gave him was worth it.

"I am not the kind of insane that should be here. It suffocates me. It does the same thing to you. It will slowly erode us until there is nothing else."

The words were too real for Heahmund. It was a truth he knew since he was brought here. Forgotten by others and by oneself, until there was nothing worth freeing.

For Heahmund, it was the ultimate punishment. Life was the greatest gift God had offered to them and every second was a gift. Wasting away here...

He would never admit it out loud, but meeting Ivar allowed him to hold on. People were puzzles, full of secrets and complicated mechanisms. A lot of them were made of the same cloth, and Heahmund had learned to recognize them. But Ivar was one of a kind. Something old, violent, almost pure in its rage.

He could not do it. Listening his instinct might have been an attractive option, but it never ended well. He needed to be cold. Efficient.

"The staff inside the clinic carries tasers, and the guards outside are armed. I don't intend to die for glory in a misguided evasion attempt."

_Not when I could escape on my own. I just have to work on someone until she snaps._

This time, Ivar did not manage to follow him.

  


*

  


Heahmund had barely sat down than Ivar appeared from behind a chair, startling him. From fallen angel, he had become the snake in Eden. Dangerous and hard to detect when one did not expect attacks at knee-length.

"How do you always find me ?" Heahmund sighed.

"I search for the whole clinic every time you're not in sight."

Heahmund got his eyes off his book to confirm Ivar was joking. He seemed serious. _God, please help me deal with whatever he is._

Ivar hold out his hand and Heahmund helped him get up. All the weight of a surprisingly muscled twenty-something rested on his wrist for a second, but he did not show any sign of discomfort. Ivar put a hand on the table, the weight transferring to him and the muscles on his arm bulged out.

He could probably break someone in half. Literally.

It should have not made him so fascinated. Heahmund steeled himself. It was just professional curiosity.

Ivar did not let go of his hand and turn it so he could study his palm and the inside of his fingers. Whatever he saw, a satisfied glint appeared in his eyes, so it could not be a good thing.

"Do you believe in past lives ?"

That was new.

"I don't. We have this one and only this one." His fingers tried to touch the cross at his neck but it was only when he touched his shirt that he remembered it was taken from him. He had had it since he was twelve.

"I disagree. I think some of us survives death and keeps going. Old things from a simpler time are trapped into a new world."

"Do you believe you are an old soul ?"

"Who knows ?" Ivar wondered. "Civilization happens, but the remnant of a simpler time survive..."

Civilization needs its remnants to be build and to survive the laws binding it.

"… where death and violence weren't considered so ugly. So that leaves people like me, who lives for battle."

Heahmund went cold.

"And you are lying to yourself if you think you are any different," Ivar finished.

"You are wrong," Heahmund snarled quietly before leaving.

He killed in wars, but that did not mean he was a killer by nature. It was only a necessity.

  


*

  


_I need to get out._

Ivar wore him down, nudging at him again and again.

Heahmund let him.

_I need to get out._

If he had threatened him or if he had bribed him, he would have laughed at him.

Ivar did not. He simply talked.

And slowly, the _I need to get out_ became _We need to get out._

  


*

  


No killing. That was the cardinal rule. Ivar complained, moaned about needing to defend themselves, added that they had been locked away and pumped with pills, and an answer was needed. But Heahmund was uncompromising. The clinic was shady and the directors and most of the doctors corrupt. They would not want to attract attention, even if two patients managed to escape. They would deal with Aethelwulf and whoever had locked Ivar up, but they could not call the police.

If anyone died, the would not have a choice, and Heahmund had no intention of escaping a police chase again.

So no killing. Even though he had the itch since he had set foot in this place. Even though every time Ivar reminded him they had to defend themselves, he just wanted to jump on the excuse and get rid of the urge.

So Heahmund was forced to be the reasonable one.

  


*

  


Tricking the security system inside the clinic was less easy than intended since he did not worked with Rose. Heahmund's plan had involved her active participation, and probably the end of any career in the medical field. Ivar just told him to let him handle it, and had disappeared into the main office. They had not even disabled the guards, they had just waited for a change of shift.

Counting on Ivar was a risk. If he wasn't the poor boy who had a psychotic break his file painted him as, he was still someone really close of a personality disorder. He could betray Heahmund. He could fail. _He could succeed and where would that leave you ? You have nowhere to go now._

But at 3:12 am, Heahmund walked out the service door and no one was the wiser as he sank into the woods. Twenty acres of green in order to offer a retreat to the madness of this world, something soothing and appeasing. There was one road to get in and out, and three checkpoints according to Nurse Rose who dislike arriving late because the photo on her driving licence was starting to get old. The gates wouldn't open unless the vehicles and identities were checked, and more guards were patrolling the woods, just in case.

Maybe they were more guards than soldiers, unprepared to face a real threat. As far as they were concerned, it was not much above babysitting. Maybe they had grown unaccustomed to be on the edge, prepared for anything. There had been runaways before but none of them had managed to get past them, not when they were sons and daughters of rich people who needed to disappear for a while.

It did not matter, for they were soft.

They were loud and unfocused, and the first one never saw Heahmund. Never had a chance to call for help as his arm went around the guard's throat and suffocated him until he passed out on his feet. He laid him down, and took his weapon.

Realized something was weird. Not actual bullets. Tranquilizer darts.

He smiled at the starless sky and thanked his Lord.

None of the guards knew how to hide their presences. They never needed it, failed to even think about it. After all, as far as they were concerned, they were employed as scarecrows with tranquilizers.

They never expected to be attacked.

They were patrolling two by two but that did not save them. Heahmund took his time. Striking from the shadows, silently. He shot at the most of the time. Taking their weapons as soon as they were out, destroying the radios, and biding them when he could. Precise and efficient.

But sometimes, it was more violent than it ought to be. Sometimes, he was surprised and dealt with the problem differently : an arm around the throat, a skull bashed into a hard surface. _They locked me up._ He despised unnecessary violence but there were times when nothing else could be done.

By the time he was finished, his breathing was a little too laborious for his tastes. Dealing with all the guards on this side of the forest had always been the worse risk of his plan but he had had no choice since he had to add Ivar's extraction to the break out. Fortunately, Nurse Rose had told him how understaffed they were, even giving him the actual number, so he had taken his chance.

Ivar had already started dragging his weight into the forest and Heahmund had no doubt he would cross it by himself if he had to. The wheelchair was out of the question on this field, so the budding sociopath had decided to crawl. However, as hard as Heahmund hit, he hardly believed the guards would stay unconscious for several days.

Ivar saw him and a smile lit up his whole face. Heahmund froze at the sight.

"I almost believed you had forgotten about me, Bishop."

"I do try everyday," Heahmund assured.

"Now, let's not lie to ourselves, Heahmund."

Heahmund did not even try to get the meaning behind the words or even the wolfish smile. Instead, he grabbed Ivar and threw him on his shoulder like a potatoes sack.

Ivar had apparently expected a piggyback ride but Heahmund lived to disappoint him.

  


*

  


Atlas was the titan whose task was to carry the world on his shoulders. Would he fail to do that, the and the earth would meet each other, destroying every thing in the fierce embrace of two primal forces. His burden was the only thing assuring the sustainability of life itself according to Greek mythology, and if he decided one day to just throw it away, Heahmund would not blame him and probably understand it. Pure empathy was coursing through him at the mere idea.

So when he saw a black Range Rover Escalade and a driver who bore a passing resemblance to Ivar, he dropped his burden into his lap without making sure of his identity and checked if his back was still there. Three hours into a dark forest with 200 pounds of very pissed and probably armed neurosis on his shoulders had been... interesting. His face and body language was showing so sign of discomfort while every muscle of his body was screaming NEVER AGAIN.

The driver managed to disentangle himself from Ivar and looked at Heahmund, carefully.

"Hello ?"

Heahmund looked at him and the driver suddenly got very still, so he tried to soften his gaze. He needed this car and would not allow this man to drive away in blind panic without him. Long blond hair braided away from his face, seemed nervous, which was a sign of intelligence since he was Ivar's older brother. Though, Heahmund did not remember the name.

"My name is Heahmund Bishop," he introduced himself with a slight bow. "Thank you for helping us."

"Hvitserk Ragnarson."

He went into the car before one of them had a chance to change his mind and leave him here in the middle of nowhere. Ivar had managed to take shotgun and adjusted the rear view mirror to watch him. Someone did not appreciate to have Heahmund at his back.

"Where is Ubbe ?" Ivar asked.

"Ubbe is still healing from the dozens of bullets who passed through him."

This family kept getting interesting.

Ivar clicked his tongue, obviously not feeling charitable. "I told you not to go."

"Yes, that's why I listen now." He glanced at Heahmund. "During one of our operation, my older brother and I were trapped," he explained. "Ubbe was shot by some crazy sniper from Curtana. He fell just out of reach and the bastard kept shooting at him. Never somewhere vital, to draw us out."

Heahmund remembered to breathe. Thankfully, his face showed nothing.

"How terrible."

Hvitserk nodded, his features strained as he remembered.

"Curtana is composed of a bunch of fanatics."

While Ascalon was the personification of sunshine. They were assigned for the work military forces did not want to approach. Black ops did not begin to describe them. At least, the soldiers of Curtana had loyalty and did not fight for the pleasure of it...

In the rear view mirror, Ivar was watching him intently.

Heahmund gave him an innocent smile, conscious of the gun in the pocket of his jacket. Twelve bullets, easy to draw, and he knew he could shoot Hvitserk before he had the time to react. The car would crash and it would give him just enough distraction to deal with Ivar.

Ivar smiled back in the rear view mirror and listened to his brother again as he pretended not to watch him from the corner of his eye.

  


*

  


The table in the kitchen of the safe house was covered in weapons. Blades for the most, but also a lot of guns, all cherished weapons which had been dearly missed by their owners. Ivar was taking care of his knives with something akin to love, and Heahmund did not fail to notice some of them had been with him at the clinic. As for him, after a quick clean-up and some food, Hvitserk had dropped him at a warehouse and he had gotten out with one of his usual survival bag. The M16 in particular was a long time friend.

Hvitserk had taken one long look at the table, and once he had regained the ability to speak, he had declared he was on grocery duty and he had left. Heahmund should have done the same thing since he had nothing to do with them anymore but things were complicated.

He had nowhere to go. Curtana had blacklisted him. Aethelwulf would certainly forget to be careful and kill him if he tried to search support anywhere near the organization.

Some sense of alarm passed through Heahmund as Ivar eyed one of his knife. The hunting knife.

"That's a beautiful blade," Ivar said.

"Which is mine."

Ivar gave him a puzzled look. "Of course," and as he spoke, his voice reached high notes.

He made a point to take one of his knife and started playing with it, making it spin between his fingers. Heahmund reached for his knife, and as he did, Ivar pretended not to have a care in the world and to be just playing with a throwing knife. Nothing to see here.

"You are well trained," Ivar noticed. "Who were you working with ?"

"Excalibur."

British private military society.

Ivar smiled like Heahmund was the funniest thing in the world : "Now, that's a lie, Bishop, Heahmund. But it's alright. One lie is allowed. But only one."

It only meant Heahmund needed not to be caught in a lie anymore.

Heahmund put his knife in the sheath of his belt and Ivar ceased fidgeting so much. It did not mean he wouldn't stab him, just that he would not expect Heahmund to kick the table on him. Ivar could stand and walk with the high end prostheses and crutch Hvitserk had brought him, but, oh irony, he lost in mobility.

"What do you intend to do now that you are free ?"

"I am going to kill Lagertha," the younger man informed here like he was talking about the ceather.

"Your mother ?" That was what the rumor said. That he had a psychotic break due to grief and tried to kill his mother, but Heahmund did not trust anything coming from this clinic. Ivar was not a poor soul victim of mental health issues, he was someone that had turned into a predator due to training. Who liked what he was.

Dangerous. Beautiful, of course, the same way a tiger was magnificent and should always be admired from a distance.

"My father's first wife," Ivar Ragnarson corrected.

Ivar did not snarl or gave him this smile full of glee at the idea of violence. He did not went cold. There was just nothing, and that was more disturbing that any of his past antics.

"She killed my beautiful mother. So I attempted to kill her."

"You failed."

The emptiness faded a little, replaced by the usual animosity. _Good, be distracted. Predictable again._

"Bjorn Ragnarson. Lagertha's son," Ivar explained. "He has a solid core of fighters devoted to him, and they appeared between Lagertha, and Ubbe and I. Now, they couldn't actually kill me. Another 'accident' so soon would have been suspicious and they can be my legal guardian and lead Jormungand on my behalf."

It must have been maddening.

Heahmund believed him. He was not naive enough to think someone could not bribe police to classify a murder into an accident. Most of the influent families had a chief of police as honorary uncle.

Also, Ivar was a terrible liar.

"And neither Hvitserk or Ubbe would stand for it," Ivar continued "so they had to find an alternative."

"Don't you have another brother ?"

"Sigurd," Ivar sneered. There was no love lost here. And once again, his whole expression changed in an blink. "I almost forgot. I have something for you !" he announced all proud of himself.

Something slid on the table and Heahmund was left stunned as he recognized the pendant. A simple silver cross, quite small. The cross they had taken from him at the clinic.

Ivar smiled like the Cheshire cat, so proud of him his face was transformed by a childish glee.

"You touch your neck when you are thinking. I knew something was missing."

Heahmund did not reach for the cross.

 _It's a trap._ It had to be.

"What do you want, Ivar ?"

He shrugged : "I was going to propose you to come with me. I could use someone like you. And a reward worthy of someone like you."

Money was tempting. Denying it would have been a lie. But the mere idea of walking into a familial civil war. It was probably what had landed him into this prison disguised as a clinic in the first place.

"What can you give me worth the risk ?"

"Enough money to build any life you want. Jormungand belongs to me. My brothers have money, I made sure of it, but I am leading this organization."

"You don't need me."

"I need you. I have two of my brothers. I have soldiers. But I don't have another naturally born killer. One that is complete, that is," he added with a smile.

Smile which disappeared when he saw Heahmund's expression.

Heahmund was not a butcher. He did not crave for the killing. He was simply good at it.

It was not who he was.

"I am not what you are looking for, Ivar," he heard himself say as he grabbed his bag. "I am going to somewhere quiet and I am not fighting anymore."

"That is a shame."

Ivar did not try to say anything else, though his shoulders had dropped. It had been a bad idea from the start. Ivar was everything Heahmund tried to avoid as he fight. Something of instinct that relished in violence, in the fight, something fascinating and beautiful. But not for Heahmund.

He opened the door.

And the time slowed like all these time when he had been in a life or death situation.

He saw everything in less than a second. A dozen of soldiers dressed in black armor, armed, and him casually walking to them.

Oh.

Heahmund did not remember taking his knife in hand. He simply realized he was moving as one of his hand had grabbed the barrel of the weapon to be out of aim and the other had stabbed the soldier in the neck. It felt natural and this reflex certainly saved his life.

The soldier managed to shoot, above Heahmund's head, the sound piercing th silence in all its brutal strength. The gun stayed in Heahmund's hand as he took cover behind the wall. A hell of bullets rained down on them, and the last thing he saw before crouching down was the huge metal table being flipped down and Ivar disappearing behind it. No time to reach him.

The fire of the semi automatics kept being unleashed upon them.

Heahmund waited, a faint smile on his lips.

  


*

  


When the soldiers came in, only dust was moving. They walked over the body of their fallen companion, checking the living space. One of them looked behind the metal table that had seen better days, while another covered for him.

None of them expected the flash grenade.

A few moments of dizziness was all they needed.

One of them cried out, stabbed in the foot before the bend of the knee was sliced, and as the soldier crashed down, the throat was cut. Ivar was faster crawling, and he had no problem bringing people to his level. He shot them before he had the time to react, smiling like someone who never felt more alive than when he was fighting.

But they did react.

And died one by one, some of them killed by Ivar as he cut and shot his way out of the chaos, others shot from the shadows without understanding what was happening.

Heahmund was in the peaceful place where nothing could touch him as he pulled the trigger. Methodically. Efficiently. _Blissfully._

Nobody managed to touch Ivar because Heahmund was covering for him. Nobody found Heahmund because Ivar was distracting them. They had not talked about it, had not made a plan. It just felt natural.

  


*

  


The private military contractors had died in a senseless slaughter, brought by their own stupidity. Now, Heahmund was involved in a war with Jormungand.

"Well..." Ivar started with a smile which lightened the room.

"Don't even say it," Heahmund snarled.

 

*

  


Hvitserk got out of his car, the takes-out in one hand, a gun in another. He seemed surprised to see them in a car but no so surprised to see them alive. Despite what Ivar had affirmed, Heahmund was not entirely convinced Hvitserk had not betrayed them.

"Dinner will have to wait, brother. We have to leave."

"Yes," Heahmund added, deadpan, "I think your evil step-mother learned Ivar was out."

  


 

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Kudos and/or comments always make me smile. :)


	2. Chapter 2

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> For Ivar, it is time to take back what belongs to him.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sometimes, writing a fic is like sprinting through obstacles without anything holding you back. Sometimes, it's something a little less charming like taking the ring into Mordor. I am sorry for how long it took me to write this chapter.

 

 

As far as Heahmund could tell, Ivar had never had an even temper, but it degraded dramatically as they got closer to the Ragnarson's family home. He tried to hide it and failed miserably, playing with his knife and showing teeth at anyone who got too close under the pretense of speaking to them.

Hvitserk, Ivar, and Heahmund were in the living room of another safe house, this one guarded by men loyal to this side of the Ragnarson family, preparing for their meeting with Lagertha. Blueprints of a little restaurant at the fringe of town were spread on the table, with files on other mercenaries Lagertha could employ and different escape plans.

The only thing keeping Heahmund awake at this point was the near lethal consummation of black tea. Hvitserk's drug of choice seemed to be anything containing a trace of sugar, and as of Ivar, he had settled for spite and rage.

"If we have to talk with Lagertha about reinstating you into your position, why go to a crabby restaurant. Aren't we supposed to pretend to be accomodating ?" Hvitserk wondered.

Ivar's brothers had insisted on finding a solution that would not mean a civil war, hence these absurdly risky parleys, but there were fools if they thought Ivar would not get his revenge. He cared less about Jormungand than Lagertha's death.

"We had a far nicer location in mind," the budding sociopath said with what he thought was a British accent, "but someone screamed bloody murder."

Ivar made a point of looking at Heahmund, in case he was too subtle.

"If you want to get killed by snipers, it is not a problem but don't expect me to come with you."

Ivar rolled his eyes but did not object. He knew Heahmund was right.

"Where were you working again ?" Hvitserk asked.

"Excalibur," Ivar and Heahmund answered at the same time without even looking at him.

Hvitserk politely did not say anything about Excalibur in front of Heahmund but his expression did not quite hide his disdain. They kept talking about security risks until Hivtserk retired to check on Ubbe.

Heahmund waited until he did not hear his footsteps anymore and turned toward Ivar.

"Is there something bothering you I should know about ?"

"I am not sure I want you to meet Lagertha."

Heahmund raised an eyebrow. There were times when words were not needed when you could just settle for the sheer absurdity of what was just said.

"There is something about her that makes even reasonable people behave like idiots," Ivar explained.

"What do you mean ?"

Ivar played with his knife, thinking about the right words. He span it expertly, without a pause and so fast Heahmund had to pay attention for the blade not to become a blur. Heahmund recognized as the product of hours waiting in the field with no distraction except the weapon at his disposal. Boredom was the mother of improvement, and waiting for action could be nerve wrecking.

It was even worse when a sniper had to wait for a window of opportunity. There was no off mode, no possibility to let the mind wander and react afterwards. Staying focused was mandatory, for missing anything meant the end.

Ivar finally found his words :

"Most men want her to notice them. To like them. She pushes them to their doom and they thank her for the opportunity. It's like watching moths embracing a flame."

The dance of the knife stopped and blue eyes pierced at Heahmund, trying to see what he was thinking. Unfortunately for Ivar, Heahmund kept his secrets like a dragon protected his gold.

"When Ubbe was injured," Ivar continued without any trace of the sullen look Heahmund had come to expect, I immediately transferred him to another house. I did not want her at his bedside, telling him how sorry she is about our mother's fate and how our father's legacy must now be our priority. Ten days with her and I would have to fight my own brother for my own good, obviously."

Heahmund wanted to know more about Lagertha but Ivar's head might explode if he suspected he was interested in her.

"Could you tell me more about your father's legacy ?"

The dark thoughts Ivar had been drowning in since he was in the same town as Lagertha shifted at once, all this intensity now focused on Heahmund and this predatory glint in his eyes, which had picked Heahmund's interest the first time he had seen him in this undead factor.

"Heahmund, I love talking with you, but these days, it seems _I_ am the only one talking while you are listening."

Indeed, and that was how Heahmund liked it.

Ivar simply watched him intently, and the older man knew this was one of Ivar's test. One of his inquiries into what Heahmund was made, and if he endangered the strange bond between them, He considered it, for half a moment perhaps. And surrendered.

A truth for a truth then.

"What do you want to know ?"

"Everything. But since we are talking about family, let's start by that."

Heahmund had various secrets, sins that kept him alive. His family was not one of them.

"My parents were both ex militaries. They were good parents. Stern, but fair. They taught me about responsibilities and how to survive."

Ivar's eyes lit up when Heahmund talked about survival.

"They trained you ?"

"Not exactly. My mother's family always liked to hunt, and my father discovered he shared the appetite. I was raised in the discipline."

"How was it ?"

Heahmund smiled at the memory. It had been simple. Pure in its simplicity.

"Peaceful," he admitted with fondness.

Ivar smiled back at him. He had as many smiles as he had weapons but this one was different. No violent glee, no lie, no trace of teeth or amusement. It was the softest expression he had ever seen on him.

It was somewhat adorable.

"My father wanted to create something that would give us enough capital to grow from it. His wife and he could kill, and they use it. They built a kingdom on their ability, but the main goal was to invest and build something on it. That's why my mother invested in land, and my other brother, Sigurd is scouring the medical field in Europe."

"Sigurd ?"

"My older brother and Hvitserk's younger brother. He prefers Europe and doesn't often come." Ivar tried to look nonchalant. It was a sight to behold. "Classic middle child syndrome."

"Another sibling I don't know ?"

"Bjorn" Ivar nodded "my step-brother and my father's first son. Obviously on his mother's side. He is a good enforcer, but not very bright."

No warmth or any sign of compassion. Fighting his brother did not bother Ivar, but that did not mean he would not be furious if someone killed him. Family was strange and Heahmund did not wish to be stabbed because of the murder of Ivar's kin.

It was one of Heahmund's major concern since he had learned Ivar's mother had designated him as the only heir. Brothers had killed each other for less and killing one of them to keep Ivar or him alive would certainly not endear himself to him. He still had to be paid. He was still thinking about logistics when Ivar spoke again.

"I could use someone like you in Jormungand. After all, you are looking for a job."

_And the moment disappears._

"I am leaving after this job."

Softness evaporated from Ivar's features. It was probably for the best.

  


*

  


Aethelwulf had been a good president but he had made a fatal mistake. He did not work for the loyalty of his men. As the son of Echbert and the great-grand son of the founder, he never thought he had to win for their approval. After all, his father did not. But Echbert's legacy had left its marks and the contractors were not keen anymore to follow blindly the family.

Heahmund had this trust. He led the soldiers of Curtana into the battlefield, fought beside them, and was extremely efficient. They had learned to trust him because he was never playing with their lives, and a lot of them appreciated him.

And as he gained in popularity, the divide between Aethelwuld and his men worsened. Heahmund had managed not to understand how bad it was until Judith, Aethelwulf's wife, had talked to him about seizing control over Curtana.

Heahmund had never wanted to be king, not when he was far more suited as a general.

That did not save him when Aethelwulf decided he was a nuisance to the legacy left by his father.

_Never again._

 

*

  


Ubbe, Hvitersk's and Ivar's older brother, was the perfect depiction of a leader, from the way he walked with utmost confidence to the kindness devoid of gullibility, and the general impression of strength. Unfortunately, what Ubbe wanted to show to the world was somewhat ruined when Heahmund was concerned since he had seen him swallow a lot of pain killers to not limp anymore despite his various wounds.

Heahmund had said it was a bad idea for him to come. Ivar had said the same thing by calling his brother an idiot to his face. But stubbornness was a Ragnarson family trait, so Heahmund was preparing himself to haul another man on his shoulders if things went wrong.

He was so focused or the dozens of way things could go wrong than he was left unprepared to the vision of the woman who had almost caused his death.

Lagertha was golden. Heahmund saw her, was hit with the full impact of the warrior in front of him, and he understood why she made men foolish. Different women provoked different reactions, be it an instinct of protection, a challenge, trust, security, an equal, a partner. Lagertha was among the rare ones, not only beautiful, but the warriors who had an absolute trust in their abilities.

No man or woman could see her and not want to prove worthy of such a valkyrie.

The restaurant was empty except for the leading members of Jormungand and their help. Ivar's party were composed of the three brothers sat on one side of a large table, Heahmund standing behind Ivar's chair, while Lagertha sat alone. A bear of a man was standing behind her, on his right, and Bjorn looked like he would charge at any moment and the table would simply fold around him. Another woman covered in blue tattoos and a man too on edge. If things went wrong, he would be the first to shoot.

Heahmund's full attention turned towards Lagertha spoke as she looked at Ivar, her eyes soft and kind. Almost maternal.

"Ivar. I am so glad you feel better."

He showed his teeth.

"Thank you so much for the vacation. I am not an ingrate. I plan to offer you some time to rest too."

Bjorn suddenly looked bigger as he glared at Ivar, and Ubbe, feeling the shift of tension, put a hand on his little brother's shoulder. Ivar took a deep breath, not liking it, but not getting rid of the touch. Heahmund was not sure if it was because he liked his brother of because he did not want to show dissension in front of the enemy.

Lagertha ignored all of them, and focused on the only one she did not know.

"Who is this ?" she asked, pointing at Heahmund with a movement of the head.

"My bodyguard."

That left everyone a little dumbfounded.

"Since when do you need one ?" Bjorn asked with the long suffering look of those who could not call anyone on the enormity which passed some lips.

Ivar shrugged. "I'm a cripple. I need a bodyguard."

Lagertha seemed stoic but the way she looked at Ivar for a second too long betrayed she struggled with that one. She wisely decided to not say anything about it, and her gaze met Heahmund's once again. "What is your name ?"

"You don't need to know," Ivar said in a sweet, sweet voice.

Lagertha smiled. "Of course. I was only trying to be polite."

She crossed her legs, taking her time. "All of you are sons of Ragnar, my dear husband. It is obvious that Jormungand is part of your legacy, and I never meant to deprive you. But you did try to kill me."

Ivar was eerily still.

"You killed our mother," Ubbe reminded her, contempt barely hidden in his voice.

"I did. But think about it. Your mother's death was a tragedy, but she was far from perfect. Ragnar and I built this company from nothing.And she took it from me. Then, she gave it to Ivar, ignoring her three others sons. Ubbe, Hvitserk, you were robbed of your legacy. I am simply trying to make things right."

"Thank you for your concern, Lagertha. Ivar's first act as new leader of Jormungand was to give our part of the legacy."

"Money. Not shares. He kept the real power, of course."

"You never did understand what we wanted. I am not even sure you know what you want, but you decided to kill our mother to obtain it. You locked my brother away. All this for a legacy you willingly abandoned before I was born."

"What is done is done.What would you want me to do ?"

" Confess your murder," Ivar said. He seemed almost bored by the conversation. "Face a trial and go to jail. Pay for what you did to my mother, according to the laws of society. Or you will pay according to older laws."

Lagertha gave him a warm smile that did not reach her eyes. She leaned forward, more amused than dauntless, and said one word, definitive. "No."

For the first time since he had arrived in town, Ivar looked genuinely happy :

"War, it is."

There was nothing more to say, and despite what Heahmund's instinct had kept whispering to him since this morning, they left without trouble. Thought right before Lagertha and her team was out of sight, Ubbe glanced at them, and Heahmund saw sadness on his face. This was the expression of a man wondering when things had gone so wrong.

They were forty five minutes away from the restaurant when a sea of flames and a deafening noise engulfed the car.

  


*

  


Heahmund was tired of being shot at.

The car had fell sideways, the floor sustaining the fire of the semi automatic arms whose bearers were sent to finish the job of the landmine. If the vehicle had not been armored, they would have died.

_How did they know our itinerary ?_

"Hvitserk ! Roof!" Ivar barked and his brother pushed a button. Slowly, the roof of the armored car opened. Heahmund use his feet and his hand to assure his balance and open the seat belt. He didn't crash on his head like last time he was in a burning car, and made his way to the opening in the roof. The noise of the gunfire was even more brutal, sending jolts of adrenaline through his system.

Ivar struggled with his own seat belt. Damaged. Heahmund gave him his knife, then helped Hvitserk escaping. He was clutching a huge black bag in his hand like a child holding a teddy bear. Heahmund ignored this crazy family for a second and took cover while searching for something useful on his jacket as bullets were flying above his head. The metal of the car was screaming as it was taking damages, protecting them of being ripped apart by the stream of metal but for how long ?

 _Don't be broken._ _Don't be broken._ He found the mirror and used it to see behind him. The light of the fire was, indicating the shooters' position but if he tried to aim, he would make a nice target. With automatic weapons, they would hardly need to aim.

Ivar dragged Ubbe out of the car. Ubbe had gotten pale, exactly like someone in convalescence who should not have gotten out of bed would do after being thrown on the side at high speed.

"I need cover !"

Ivar pointed at Hvitserk with a sign of his head, and Heahmund finally realized what had been inside the bag and what he was assembling. A M2 Browning machine gun.

_Oh._

Hvitserk fired hell on the shooters, grinning like a madman. There was a moment of absolute astonishment then they all fired back by pure survival instinct, turning into lovely targets. Heamund's gun moved on his own, and everyone someone was in his viewfinder, he shot, utterly tranquil.

The chaos finally ceased.

  


*

  


Ivar was playing with a phone. Despite the calm he affected, no one was buying it. It was Ivar's tragedy that he could never hide his emotions, not when he felt them as such an intensity, and right now, he was positively furious.

"I knew as soon as Lagertha took the reins that some of our members would remember she helped founding Jormungand and forget she abandoned it by spite. That's why I choose you carefully, all of you."

Three of his former soldiers knelt in front of the Ragnarsons clan, a woman and two men, one of them seriously beat up. Hvitserk did not appreciate runners. The other soldiers were around the room, near the walls, ready for the show of strength.

"As futile as it seems," Ivar continued "I long for loyalty. I want to believe in you. I want to believe that in this world, there is someone who never lies, cheats, or compromises. Who is always... noble."

Gousesebumps passed on Heahmund's skin as the words echoed in him. He could feel the truth in every word, and did not think those around him realized how sincere Ivar was. He rearranged his crossed arms to try to hide the reaction on his bare forearms.

The look Ivar gave them was absolutely chilling. "How disappointing."

Hvitserk shot two of the traitors, making more than a dozens of soldiers already too on edge jump at the sound and at the swiftness of the action. Ivar rose, leaving the phone which had betrayed Lagertha's moles on the table, and walked to the remaining dead man in waiting. He did not limp as much a he stalked like a pissed off predator.

"You. You came to me and asked to fight for me, Erik. You said you might not have been with Jormungand for all, but you wanted to be on the right side because it would be the side to win..."

The blond-haired man seemed terrified. "Ivar..." he called as he tried to turn and look at the youngest Ragnarson. But Ivar did not let him, his hand pulling his hair to expose his throat.

Ivar was at his calmest when he slit Erik's throat.

 _Not deep enough._ _He botched the job_ , Heahmund thought before he realized it was intended exactly as it was.

Dark red fled freely as he gurgled, and even after he felt, he was still fighting to breath while he was drowning in his own blood. A slow death where the only thing left to do was to panic.

Ubbe's voice cut at the solemn silence : "We can not tolerate disloyalty."

But Heahmund was barely paying attention to him. His eyes were on Ivar, standing still near Erik. He looked like he was hurting. _Betrayed._

The room started emptying itself. Erik's body was taken away and no one was shocked or traumatized by the show of strength. It was not usual but it was not especially noteworthy in their strange and violent world, this place of shadow and blood civilized people blissfully ignored.

Erik. From comrade to warning tale to after-thought. Heahmund knew being so numb to death was a problem, but in his case, this flaw had always been there.

Ivar walked to him, and Heahmund moved a little so he was next to a bench. Ivar noticed, his gaze dark and his face inexpressive, but since he sat next to him, he probably did not take it as a mortal insult.

"You disapprove ?" he asked, seemingly unconcerned.

 _Why would you think that ?_ _How will you react if I disagree with you ?_

"They are your men. You are supposed to handle insubordination and traitors..."

 _Wait a minute..._ Heahmund turned towards Ivar, completely focused on him. Ivar tensed at the sudden shift in the mood, and he was right to be alarmed.

"Where is my knife ?"

"Mmm ?" Ivar pretended not to know what he was talking about.

"Where. Is. My. Knife ?"

Ivar's shoulders dropped, but Heahmund was intransigent. He held out his hand, stern, and waited until his beloved knife was given back. He would have to hide it until now.

As he left, he barely payed attention to the phone on the table, a bait for another traitor, a cautious measure, nothing else. None of them suspected Heahmund had already taken the SIM card and the phone number on it.

  


*

  


"Hello, Mr Bishop."

Her voice was low, intimate. It conjured the same strange familiarity he felt with Ivar, but there was something else. It was easier.

"Ms Ingstad." He made sure his voice showed nothing.

"Please, call me Lagertha. As soon as I saw you, I knew who you were. Curtana is one of our top competitor and you were seen as Aethelwulf's possible replacement."

Heahmund was careful to not answer.

"What is Ivar offering you ? Money ? He doesn't have access to anything for now."

"For now," he reminded her.

He could hear the smile in her voice. « With you on his side, it's possible. But do you actually want to bet all your hopes on someone so erratic ? »

They both knew the answer. Everything that made Heahmund rebelled at the idea of risking so much for a hypothetical reward. He was no gambler, preferring to control his environment, and Ivar was chaos.

They spoke for a while.

  


*

  


Killing had several purposes. When it was about hunting, it was simple : to feed the family, to consolidate the bond between the kin, It was a noble tradition. As a teenager, Heahmund was giddy each time his father announced they could use more meat.

When it was about killing people, however... His parents had explained it as a matter of duty. Protect your country, protect your brothers and sisters-in-arms. The heavy weight of responsibility, a burden they had to carry to survive.

Except Heahmund had never felt it.

  


*

  


When Heahmund came back to his room, Ivar was on his bed. In dark fatigues an a blue tee-shirt that was tight across the shoulders and loose around his waist. The sleeves were a little too long, falling on his hands and his fingerless gloves.It might have been the fatigue or the surprise to find the little prince here, but he stood frozen for a second.

"Are you here to steal my knife ?" he asked without thinking. It was literally the first thought that passed through his mind.

Ivar gave him this fond smile of his. A predator like him had no right to be so complex.

"No, I am here to see you. Though I didn't find it."

The mobile phone jammer had been left in a secure place, but the SIM card was still on him. Heahmund's mind pictured a clear image of Hvitserk barging through the door to hold his arms as Ivar stabbed him a dozen of times. It was on the edge of paranoia but that did not mean he wasn't right, so he closed the door, walked, and leaned on the wall facing Ivar.

"Apart from letting you see this hunter knife ever again, how may I help you, Ivar ?"

Ivar passed a hand on his hair, fixing a braid with those long fingers of his, and still smiling. His eyes were burning as they passed over Heahmund. "How cruel of you. I love this knife."

"You have good tastes."

"Indeed. Do you remember when I said only one lie was allowed between us ?"

"Of course."  _I always remember when someone threatens me._ Heahmund was perfectly relaxed, nothing in his attitude betraying his alarm. He had no way to know if Ivar knew about his little chat, but was aware of his hatred and how impulsive it made him.

"What do you intend to do once Lagertha is dead and you're paid ?"

"I intend to retire. I don't think I will leave the continent. I am tired of war."

People never believed him when he said that. How could they ? They knew him as the soldier, the general, the sniper, the killer. They saw him and they could never imagine him as something else.

He was surprised when he saw that Ivar did.

"That would be a tragedy," Ivar said and there was the mourning of something beautiful in his voice.

"That would be a blessing," Heahmund said. "Now move, I need to sleep."

Heahmund did not wait and simply laid on the bed as Ivar suddenly moved out of the way. He took out the knife out of the sheath on his belt and put it near his pillow. A gun was already safely tucked away between the wall and the edge on the bed. He closed his eyes and relaxed, feeling the weight on Ivar's gaze on him for a moment.

He waited for what was left silent between them, the weight of the unsaid words too thrilling for their own good.

"Are you the one I can trust, Heahmund. Can I believe in you ?"

He opened his eyes and saw Ivar, sitting at the end of the bed, back at him. Careful not to show him his face.

So much hope. A desire to trust so raw, ready to bet everything upon the slight chance of having one's trust reciprocated. And he remembered how much it hurt when it was broken, be it on either side.

"No. I am not, and you shouldn't."

Ivar had no business seeming so surprised. Not even betrayed. Just astonished by the answer. He shrugged. "It's alright. You are not essential," he declared before standing up and starting to walk out. He stopped, his hand on the door handle.

"One last thing. You seem to believe you can become a good citizen if you choose to. You can't. You and I are killers instead of soldiers, walking out of this life would mean walking out of who we are.If you are fated, it doesn't matter if you choose or not. You just have the illusion of free will."

Irritation shot through Heahmund, and for a moment, he was unable to contain a scowl for a moment.

Ivar bared his teeth in what was only technically a smile : "Nothing to add."

" Actually, I do have a question." Heahmund would get stabbed by Ivar, he would deserve it, and it would be utterly worth it. "About Lagertha."

"Ask." Violence saturated the word so completely it was distorted. Heahmund pretended not to notice.

"How come your step-mother looks as old as her son ?"

Ivar gave him a glare that could curdle milk while Heahmund was doing is best interpretation of someone innocent. "I don't know and I don't care. But I am sure she will be pleased to know her daily bath in the blood of the innocents suits you."

He slammed the door on his way out.

Heahmund kicked off one of his boot and took the SIM card hidden inside it. It needed a better hiding place.

 

*

  


"The only way to stay human is to be protectors and not killers. There must be something else at the end of the line, or what we do to survive will devour us."

"Do you think of yourself as a protector, Lagertha ?"

She hesitated. No, she thought about it. There was no hesitation in Lagertha Ingstad, only steel determination and time needed to explain her view of the world.

"Everything I did was for my family. For a chance at a better future. For an ideal. It's what I am fighting to protect, and I know that I can be someone else than a killer."

"As long as you have an ideal you pursue, you can keep yourself from drowning in what you did."

It was a question but Lagertha hold it as an unquestionable truth

"An ideal you can share, Heahmund."

He thought about it.

"I could," he admitted.

  


*

  


Heahmund was nowhere to be found. His room was empty of the few personal items he had, no one knew where he was, and worse, no one had seen him leave, leaving Ivar seething and curbing the need to destroy something, anything, until this hunger for destruction was satiated.

"What does he know about the plan ?" Ubbe asked quietly. His brother knew him too much, and recognized these moments when he was falling and falling into a red place. Hitserk had the same thing, but less. It was in their blood, and it had been nurtured by their education.

"He knows nothing," he managed to say despite the anger that threatened to swallow him. He took deep breaths, remembering his mother's words. She was the one that had brought him back from the edge again and again.

As much as Ivar wanted to trust Heahmund, he had clearly said to not believe in him. And despite this strange bond between them, this instant familiarity, he just couldn't risk everything on a man who was so careful to not care about which side would win. _Something beautiful, but not something you can trust._

Except Ivar had seen how Lagertha and Heahmund seemed to notice each other. His instinct was screaming it was because of the witch. _He changed his mind and went with someone else._ By not involving himself in the plan to kill Lagertha, Heahmund may have hoped not to pause a threat to Ivar so his desertion would not be considered a betrayal. For anyone else, it could have worked.

But Heahmund was too bright. He knew the depths of the hatred Ivar felt for Lagertha. If he found Bishop on the same side as this witch, he would break him piece by piece.

His older brother put a hand on his shoulder, trying to anchor Ivar. The touch was unnerving, exactly what Ivar didn't want as he was on edge, but the intent behind the action was more important. His brother worried about him and wanted to be there for him, so he slowly dragged himself to civilization.

"It's alright, Ubbe. The plan doesn't change. Lagertha will die. I never needed him anyway."

 _One lie is allowed._ _But only one._

Ubbe nodded.

"Do you want his knife ? He forgot it."

"Forgot it ?" Ivar repeated.

He had left it. What did it mean ?

Was it a present or a peace offering ?

Did it matter anymore ?

  


*

  


There was a taste of blood in Ivar's mouth and he swallowed, refusing to show weaknesses. Not in front of them. Lagertha was standing in front of him, so regal while she was surrounded by men and women devoted to her. He had found her in a safe room, inviolable, and he had set on fire a quarter of his family home to lure her out.

The red dot on his chest had stopped him before he got to her. Another one was on his throat, faithful snipers protecting Lagertha. Lucky bitch.

At least, Heahmund had not been among her men. That would have been one last insult.

He breathed deeply. At least, his brothers and most of his men were safe. He loved his family and if he was not exactly capable of caring about his men, he still had the duty to not let them die for nothing.

"Was it worth it, Ivar ?" Lagertha asked.

"You never understood, Lagertha. You lost at the moment you killed my mother."

Ivar had never hated those who killed his father. Never hated those who tried to kill him or who managed to killed the few soldier he appreciated along the years. But his mother was different. If the mercenaries accepted the risks tied to their profession, her mother had never been a warrior. And she had died, shot in the back, a death she had never deserved.

Lagertha did not believe him. She was so used to be Lagertha Ingstad, one of the builders of Jormungand, survivor of the war between private military companies, last remnant of the old generation.

"Even if you kill me, Jormungand isn't yours anymore. Why did you think I took so long to attack? Lawyers and police officers are mine again, each carefully bribed or threatened, and they will back me up as the crippled victim in your murderous schemes to take over Jormungand. Your fate is fixed."

Lagertha looked at his son, communicating without a word. His half-brother's face was grim.

Ivar had won before he had even attacked. He had just needed to finish it by killing Lagertha with his bare hands. Too bad.

"Then, we have no reason to keep you alive anyway, right ?" his half-brother said.

"How stupid can you be, Bjorn ?" Ivar snarled. His palm hit the red dot on his chest. "I am already dead !"

Lagertha raised her hand to signal the sniper. She didn't want Bjorn to kill his brother.

The shot was deafening.

The second one was more surprising. None of them touched Ivar, and panic spread in a glorious wave as Lagertha and co understood something was wrong. He had let himself fall by reflex, his body trying to get away, to not be such an obvious target.

Lagertha's men started dying and nothing touched Ivar. No sign of Lagertha's snipers.

Which meant there was another sniper.

_Heahmund._

Ivar shot his way to them, slicing tendons and bringing people down his level as soon as they were too close. The sniper was still doing good work, bodies falling around them.

Lagertha has taken cover, and each time she tried to shot Ivar, she had to show herself a little and bullets rained on her. She was isolated, trapped. She was his.

His gun clicked on the empty chamber. No more bullets. No time to reload.

Ivar went at her, grabbing her hand so the canon of her gun was on the ground, and they crashed into each other. They wrestled on the ground, in plain view of the friendly sniper. If he killed Lagertha before Ivar managed to, he would slap the initiative out of him. She was still trying to shot him and he was bracing himself for the accidental discharge as they were struggling around the gun.

From the corner of his eye, he saw Bjorn charging at him. Ironside, the man who always managed to survive, someone who could break Ivar in half.

Until he saw the red dot on his chest.

Bjorn stopped, and at this moment, he saw his future. Trying to save his mother at the risk of being killed. Ivar saw him make his choice.

He stayed where he was.

Ivar felt Lagertha's heart break as his son decided saving her life was an unnecessary risk. Her pain gave him strength. He forced her to bend her elbow.

"I used to admire you," Ivar said at Bjorn.

Lagertha did try to struggle as he put the gun she was still holding to her head, slowly, his strength against hers and she did not have a chance. She opened her mouth, about to say something. To plead ? To explain herself ? To forgive him ?

Ivar pulled the trigger.

"There is nothing you want to say that I want to hear."

He let Lagertha fall to the ground, still clutching her weapon. She looked so surprised, as if she had never seen her death coming. Strange, how Ivar has understood her fate was fixed as soon as he learned of his mother's death.

Bjorn looked lost. Silence was binding them. When he was little, they always imagined all the Ragnarsons would strive together. Hvitserk and Ubbe still thought it possible sometimes. Ivar was not so sentimental.

He shot before Bjorn had the chance to react.

A smile spread on Ivar's lips as he stood up. His enemies were dead, Jormungand was his again, and unless they had been especially stupid, the brothers that mattered were safe. Not a bad day.

He looked at the steep landscape, an infinity of hiding spots, especially for someone as good as Heahmund. Ivar would never manage to get to him if Heahmund did not want to be found.

That didn't stop him from trying.

  


*

  


Heahmund took off as soon as he was sure Ivar was not in immediate danger anymore. Showing himself meant explaining why he had taken this course of action, and as much as he liked the idea of Ivar owing him, he couldn't start to explain what had pushed him to take such a risk. Not with words.

Lagertha was good at making people become what they wanted to be. Ivar was different,

Lagertha managed to convince people they could be who they wanted to be. Ivar was different as he revealed only the truth, what people were without their illusions and hopes. No wonder people prefered Lagertha, and Heahmund could have swayed if he wasn't so utterly tired of lying to himself.

And for now, he needed time to learn how to live with this truth.

  


  


  


 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I have no words to say what your comments and kudos mean to me. I was left smiling and lighter each time I received a notification, and hearing your thoughts about this work left me blissful for hours. Thank you so much.  
> A special thank you to LadyIrina, brave enough to bear my banshee wailing as I wrote.


	3. Epilogue

 

Isolation brought peace, something Heahmund was not accustomed. He knew how to deal with the edge danger brought, where quick reflexes and absolute control made the difference between life and death, knew how to navigate the flow of people's desire, playing them to drive them away, use them, or soothe their worries, but he had forgotten the quiet. He did not have to change as he met people, did not have to create different masks each time to adapt to their interlocutor.

So peace was something new. He learned to live with it, indulged in the new found situation. He had sought refuge from the constant madness people brought in a house deep into the mountains. No one near him, no company, and plenty of space to hunt. It reminded him of home.

However, nothing lasted forever. Fortunately.

Ivar found him three weeks later.

The door was not locked, as Heahmund had been waiting for him. He kept himself from touching the cross at his neck. It wasn't as if the usual way to warn against evil would work against Ivar. The predator strolled into the warm house, his limping more pronounced than the last time Heahmund saw him. Worry shot through him before he had the time to control it. Was he hurt ?

Ivar glared at Heahmund, and walked to the couch while maintaining eye contact. Worry vanished, replaced by adrenaline, but Ivar finally sat in front of him.

"You are rich," he said slowly, his breath short, "thanks to me and you decide to live like a hermit?"

"I am rich because of my excellent work and it's a vacation."

Manners made a man, so Heahmund brought beers from the refrigerator, and Ivar accepted one without a word. His chest was rising and lowering heavily, despite how hard he was trying to hide it. _He is injured._ That was Heahmund's first thought. He wasn't injured during the raid on Lagertha's arc, Heahmund had done a good job, so did that mean Jormungand wasn't secured.

_No, it's not that._

"You do not seem surprised to see me," Ivar noticed.

"I am only surprised to see you so late. I was hunting earlier in the day and saw Hvitserk's car from up there."

Ivar had been about to drink but paused and took a deep breath, moving the beer away. He was carefully controlling himself not to crush the glass bottle into his hand.

"There is no actual road to arrive here," Ivar said on what he thought was a tranquil tone, but he left Heamund puzzled.

"There is. South, practicable as long as you have the right car. And not on any maps," he realized.

Ivar got completely still, and Ivar was never still. Even when he did not move, he was vibrating with barely withheld violence. Heahmund wondered if he had managed to break Ivar by accident. _How interesting that would be..._

"Three hours on foot," Ivar said with the tone used for curses.

Heahmund chuckled, trying to hide the smile behind his beer, but he wasn't quite successful.

"How terrible that must have been," he managed to say.

"You can easily be forgiven for this offense. Come work for me."

"Joining another company doesn't interest me."

Ivar smiled, or showed his teeth. The difference wasn't obvious with him, but the look in his eyes stayed the same : amusement tainted by fascination. He would not let Heahmund go.

"But you are so utterly bored, aren't you, Heahmund ?"

"Absolutely not," Heahmund smiled.

Ivar leaned toward him, openly having fun.

"That would be a lie, Bishop. Nothing to fight. No one to kill. The urge is clawing at your inside, isn't it ? I know the feeling. At first, it's just a distraction, something calling you on the edge of your mind. Numbness taking over as you keep waiting for something that will never arrive. Colors fade, everything is bland, and nothing satisfies you."

Isolation brought peace. The quiet which allowed to be alone with one's thought. The restlessness it brought was something else. It was akin to starvation.

Peace was smothering Heahmund. He just didn't have what it takes to enjoy it, not when he felt so alive in the middle of the chaos. Poking at the predator in front of him was probably the reason why he had survived the psych ward.

"I am not opposed to work for you as a freelancer," Heahmund admitted.

"So it's decided then," Ivar smiled, absolutely happy. As far as he was concerned, Heahmund was already his.

It had been decided as soon as Heahmund had left a tray of crumbs for Ivar to follow. Heahmund could have disappeared, but he had wanted to know if Ivar would come back for him, the same way he had come back for Ivar.

"I promise you will never be bored with me," Ivar swore, and Heahmund had no doubt he would respect his oath.

"And I promise to never betray you."

Ivar leaned back in his seat, awfully pleased. Ivar's deepest wish was someone he could trust.

Heahmund wanted to be the one.

Ivar hesitated before slowly pulling a beautiful hunting knife, not holding it, but showing it. It almost looked like he wanted to hold it out, but his arm was bend, as if he didn't really want the knife away from him.

"You forgot this."

"I didn't. This is a gift."

Ivar nodded, and put the knife back. He had wanted to be sure leaving this present to him was not an accident. How careful of him.

There was a point where, after meeting Ivar, madness had taken root in Heahmund. He should have been more concerned about it. Instead, he wanted to see where this strange bond of them would lead them. 

"Is your driver waiting for you ?" he asked.

"He is."

"Can he keep waiting ?"

"Why ? What do you have in mind ?"

  
  


 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> For those who wonder, Hvitserk waited for them for three days. 
> 
> It seems only one person liked the second chapter, but for those who finished the fic, I hope you liked it. :) Don't hesitate to leave a comment, it helps me write and I love to hear what you think.  
> Special thank you for honey and LadyIrina.
> 
> Also, if you want slice of life of Ivar/Heahmund in this setting, check this http://archiveofourown.org/works/13890774/chapters/31963095 !
> 
> EDIT: For those of you who still leave kudos on Dementia even if the fic has been finished for a while. I see you and I love you.

**Author's Note:**

> Kudos and/or comments always make me smile. :)


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